Bittersweet
by jackwabbit
Summary: A Third Evening With Samantha Carter, woman, NOT Major Carter, Superhero. Companion To Delicious and Just Desserts. Continues the challenge of writing a friend into a story. Thanks to Sammie for feedback. NOW IT'S A TRILOGY, AND ALL FOR BECKY.


**Bittersweet**

Rated: PG for very minor language

Category: Pure Fluff

Season: Anytime-Carter is a Major

Spoilers: None

Summary: A Third Evening Out With Samantha Carter, woman, NOT Major Carter, Superhero

Note: Sequel/Companion To "Delicious" and "Just Desserts". Continues the challenge of writing a friend into a story. Thanks to Sammie for feedback.

Dedication: Now it's officially a trilogy, and all for you, Beck. Much love.

---

Wow!

This might actually work!

What a pleasant surprise. I never in a million years expected that this would actually happen like I wanted it to, but it looks good so far.

I know Colonel O'Neill's probably questioning my sanity or at least whether I'm really me, since I passed up the opportunity to help in the initial study of a new naquadah collection device found on P46-C74, but I really couldn't care less.

He can think whatever he wants, as long as I get out of here.

That goes double for Daniel, who tried to get me to talk about next week's mission when I ran into him in the hall a few minutes ago. I blew him off, too.

Don't these people know I have more important things to do?

I'm actually not off-world.

I'm pretty much done with my work for today.

The few things left over can totally wait until tomorrow.

There's no immediate crisis to deal with.

I seem to be in good health.

It's five o'clock.

There's absolutely nothing keeping me here right now.

So, I'm leaving.

I have plans, folks.

Is that so wrong?

I mean, come on, my absolute favorite TV show on this or any other planet is on tonight. Granted, I have the DVR set, as always, but IT'S THE SEASON PREMEIRE!!! I've been waiting months for this! I can actually watch it at the usual time for once! I can actually get online afterward and discuss it on the message boards like normal fans do! I don't have to stay off the internet for three days after it shows so that I can avoid spoilers until I actually get a spare hour to see it! Seriously, I don't ask for much, but anyone who gets in my way tonight is dead meat.

I can't pass this up. I'm so out of here.

What do you think kept me going at light speed today, anyway?

I know some might be surprised by this, but I'm as human as the next person, and I have favorite TV shows, too. One or two are a really big deal to me. I just try not to make that public knowledge. Image and all that. I mean, Major Samantha Carter knowing the meaning of 'prestidigitation' is fine, but of, say, 'noromo' or 'squee', well, that's entirely different, isn't it?

But seriously, what do they think I do in my lab all day and night? No one can spend that much time on a computer doing actual work. There's bound to be some recreational time. And let me tell you, there's a lot to keep a fan busy online. A lot. No internet tonight, though-real thing is on soon!

I make it to the car with no more delays, and get off base as fast as is legal.

Once I hit the highway, I hit the speed dial on my phone.

You answer on the second ring, surprising me.

"Hello?" Your voice is questioning.

"Becky?"

"Oh, hey, Sam. My phone didn't recognize your number. Almost didn't pick up."

"Yeah, sorry. I have to set my phone that way so my fans don't get my number."

You laugh at my joke and respond in kind. "Actually, so do I. You'd be amazed at the number of clients who try to bug me at all hours of the night if they can get my number. That's why I'm unlisted. I usually don't pick up my cel for numbers like this, but I'm expecting a call from a specialist, so I figured better safe than sorry."

"Well, I'm glad, because I have a question for you."

"Oh? What's up?"

"You wanna come over tonight? Season premiere, you know."

"Oh, hells yeah, I know. Already got a bunch of snacks ready, even though it was just going to be me. I even took a bit of time off from work. How's that for prepared? I knew there was no way I'd get out of here if I didn't. I'm still at the clinic catching up, but since I blocked off my late afternoon appointments, I should get out of here soon. I could totally come over to your place when I get out of here, snacks and all-they're in the car."

"Great. See you then."

"Can't wait." With that you disconnect, and good thing, too. Finish up and get over here!

The conversation took up most of my drive home, and as I pull into the drive, another thought hits me. A good one. I so rarely have guests it normally isn't worth it, but I just might have to make something special for tonight. It is the season premiere, you know.

Please don't let anyone pick now to invade the earth. I'm busy, dammit!

As soon as the door shuts behind me, I start rummaging in the cabinets to see if I have what I need. Looks like it. Sweet! I thought I did, but I wasn't sure.

Oh, yeah, this should work out well.

After setting everything out on the counter and turning on the oven to preheat, I head to my bedroom to get changed into something more appropriate for tonight. Yep, old sweats and a giant tee-shirt ought to do well. We never were much for formalities.

It's 5:45.

Plenty of time.

XXX

By the time you arrive, an hour later, the whole house smells like heaven, and you notice right away, which pleases me to no end.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"What do I smell?"

"A surprise. I made dessert."

I can't help but be amused at your amazed expression. "You? Made dessert?"

I shoot you a look of mock indignation. "Yeah. I may not cook much, but the things I can make, I can make well. And this is one of them."

"Wow. And all I brought was chips and dip."

"Well, that works. Pizza should be here in a few minutes, too, so we're all set."

"Cool. Sorry I cut it so close."

I wouldn't have expected anything else. Let's be fair, punctuality isn't your strong suit. "It happens. You're here now and that's all that matters, right?"

"Right."

A knock at the door signals the pizza is here.

Perfect. Right on time.

We pay the delivery guy, and sit down immediately on the floor in front of the TV with paper plates and napkins and cans of Dr. Pepper.

The timing is just right. How can this day really be happening?

The teaser starts, and neither one of us says a word until the first commercial break after the theme song. As it should be.

We're done with the pizza by the second break and clean up is over before the show's back on. I'd love to do my part for the environment, but it's disposable all the way tonight-it's faster, and I'm not missing anything to rinse off a plate.

Chips and dip are forgotten as the second half of the show is watched in more silence. The commercial breaks are punctuated by short bursts of speculation on plot, whether we'd seen any spoilers about the parts that were just shown, and the underlying meaning of any small gestures noticed.

We aren't disappointed by the premier, and when the show ends, we can't wait for next week. It's too bad this is so rare. There's no way we'll get this lucky again anytime soon. To be able to not only see the show, but to get together and watch it with dinner and everything is just too special an opportunity.

One that should be celebrated.

As if reading my thoughts, you suddenly look at me questioningly.

"So, when do I get to find out what that wonderful smell is, Sam?"

"I thought you'd never ask. Ready for dessert now?"

"You bet. Just wanted to wait until the show was over."

Ya think? "Well, DUH. I'll go get it. You stay here."

"Yes, ma'am." You throw a mock salute my way.

Very funny. "Shut up and wait there. Give me a minute."

"Done."

I head into the kitchen, where my creation has been cooling. After carefully frosting it and putting on some finishing touches, I cut two generous pieces and head back into the living room. Your response brings a laugh-you grin like a schoolgirl.

"Is that CARROT CAKE?"

"Yep. That ok?"

"Hell, yes! I love carrot cake!"

"Yeah, I thought I remembered something like that."

With that, we eat. The cake is really good, if I do say so myself. My mother used to make it when I was very little, and I always liked it, so I've learned to make it just like she did. It's a small part of her I still have with me. It comforts me sometimes, and I like to make it for others, like she did. It doesn't take too long, and it makes me feel good, even if I cheat on the frosting and use Pillsbury.

You finish quickly, and lean back in your chair.

"Wow. That was good. Do you have any more?"

"Yep, a whole cake more. Glad you liked it." And I am. I had been a tiny bit worried.

"Loved it. I'll be honest, I'm a bit surprised. That was really, really good. I didn't think you could cook anything."

"Baking is different than cooking, and the secret's in the baby food."

You almost cough up a lung. "WHAT?"

"Baby food."

"There was baby food in there?" The slightly disgusted look on your face is priceless.

"Uh huh. One jar of pureed carrots really helps bring out the flavor."

"Huh. Never would have thought of that. It was good, though, so I'm glad you did…I guess."

"Thanks."

"Ok if I get that second piece now?"

"Oh, sure, go ahead." You must not be too disgusted, huh?

As you head off for your next piece, a thought occurs to me. I never did turn off the DVR, which is a good thing, as I almost never catch everything the first time I see an episode.

"Hey, Beck?"

You call back from the kitchen. "Yeah?"

"You wanna watch that episode again? I recorded it."

You come back into the living room and sit down with your newly cut cake and look at me like I'm crazy. "You mean to tell me you recorded the season premiere and we didn't just start it up again as soon as it was over? Are you insane? Crank that puppy up!"

I laugh at your response and turn on the DVR.

Suddenly, you look up from your plate, with a mouth half full of cake and your fork halfway to your mouth with another bite. You must really like that cake!

The thoughtful expression on your face puzzles me only for a second. Then you reveal where that devious mind of yours has gone. "You know what would be good with this?"

"What?"

"Do you happen to have any amaretto?"

A whole bottle of Disaronno. All yours if you want it.

Don't say I never gave ya nothin'.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

*_Amaretto-literally, 'a little bitter'._

_*Occasionally, planet designations differ from the usual convention to honor special circumstances._


End file.
